


All The wonders Of The world

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Coercion, Dissociation, Gaslighting, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 03:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18957169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Saihara Shuichi gets into the classic killing game show, Dangan Ronpa.Ouma Kokichi does not.And he hates. God, he hates everything.





	All The wonders Of The world

**Author's Note:**

> No sex in this event though I wanted to write porn hhhhhghhh. 
> 
> The tags don't quite go into everything but they're the biggest warning I could think of. This is essentially a fic where Kokichi watches his boyfriend live through Dangan Ronpa. That's it. There's some heavy shit.

"Other people are such an inconvenience," he hisses, live-wire eyes narrowing and left foot kicking the door shut. 

The young man drops his burden, a plastic bag, and roughly pulls of his shoes. Bottles clink and clack against the floor while he huffs. Still, all the man does is sneer before shoving his feet into soft slippers. After that there's a thoughtless storm of footsteps that assaults both tiles and wood. 

Purple irises seethe as Ouma Kokichi slams his bedroom door open. He stares into the vast gloom for only moments. Then he walks in and immediately starts to pace, a fingernail finding itself caught between teeth. Nothing but vexation is lurking inside of his chest. Even his mind is stuck on one single thing. 

He better not miss his shipment. He better not miss tonight's episode. 

"I better not fucking miss Shuichi!" Kokichi grunts even as saliva spreads across his finger tips. He growls, whines, deep from inside his ribcage. After a second those teeth of his snip-snap down onto the thumbnail between them. They cut jaggedly across, all while he panics, "I better not I better not he better not get lost-"

A dull ring sounds out from beyond the bedroom. Kokichi freezes awkwardly while the chipper yet dead doorbell continues to be rung. But he still pauses and still relaxes. He sighs, a hand running through his hair while his mind calms. 

Walking back to the entrance way is nerve-wracking. The man plays around with his half bitten off nail, and does that right up until he looks through the peephole. Even then... There's the soothing feeling of rubbing at the frayed edges and dangling keratin. It helps him not startle at the sight of someone wearing a hat. Of course delivery boys wear hats, Kokichi reminds himself. 

Looking at a perfect normal hat and jumping is pathetic. At least he's honest about it.

Kokichi gulps and slowly opens his door. 

Big. Heavy, tan, and a logo on a box being held by a tired worker. For a moment all either of them do is stand. Nervous, Kokichi laughs semi-theatrically. Then he smiles at the other man's back and says, "Wow I'd almost thought I'd miss h- this. Thanks for getting here!" 

"Uh, I mean don't worry about it. Deliveries like this are a priority so... Just sign here and I'll be on my way," the other man replies. As if neither of them are beholden to capitalism.

Kokichi stiffens but signs down his name, but ignores how pity starts to waft into the air. Don't expect anyone to understand what this is like, he reminds himself, don't expect anyone to be genuine at all. He thinks that in the same sympathy devoid tone as that woman who interviewed him. Not parents or children. Not friends or siblings. Not even lovers. Even as his eyes burn dry and his lips wobble, Kokichi signs his name with shaking fingers. 

They had gone to the first rounds of auditions as a joke. Acted as nuts as twisted as possible just to say they had. Both of them had laughed and laughed away the hints of truth. Just the same, Shuichi had said then and once more when they were invited to the second round. 

Everyone gets to know the immediate losers as a kind of relatability scheme. 

Ouma Kokichi is publicly known as the poor twenty year old whose boyfriend will die without even remembering his name. All because only Saihara Shuichi got in. Team-Danganronpa makes sure that their contestants don't know each other after all. He's lucky that mass media spun things so that he isn't demonized. 

No one listens to a word he says after all. Kokichi is branded as a broken, sniveling, lying boy of anywhere from age seventeen to age fourteen. He's read speculation articles that make his stomach churn. Each and every day the man wakes up wondering if the rest of the world is right. Maybe he is a weak willed coward. Perhaps his boyfriend really is a murder lusting pervert, and those hickies were strangulation bruises. Both of them were clearly megafucked megafans, Kokichi has a pile of dirty Shuichi scented clothing that he smells, and Shuichi made dolls of their hair. 

Absolutely. Exactly. 

Correct. 

The delivery boy leaves awkwardly and Kokichi refuses to say anything at all. 

What's the point when every day marks another day closer to Shuichi’s death?

He hadn't wanted to actually join the Killing Game show. Neither of them had, but somehow things kept going and going. With all those kind words and the strange vertigo of uncomfortable compliments. It seemed so safe while being intoxicatingly close to their favorite series. Then, of course, Kokichi brings himself back to reality by clutching his box. 

The emotional manipulation of a forty year old woman leaning down, and telling him that he'd look amazing in a trial, knowing that all he wants is to go back home and cook with his boyfriend-

It's still so heavy. 

Kokichi slips back into his apartment and gently sets his box down. He turns around to slowly close the front door. Placid eyes blink at the locks while the man frowns. A heartbeat later, and Kokichi picks up his box before pitter-pattering his way to the bedroom. It used to belong to someone else too, once. Now there's only him and the cardboard he sets on the bed. 

Shuichi doesn't live here anymore, and this is the only way left for Kokichi to console himself. 

Finding the scissors takes around five minutes. Three of those minutes are spent staring at a gold and navy collage of orcas and seals. Kokichi thinks that he made it. Shuichi’s favorite colors are those, his favorite animals are those, and there's even cups of coffee decorating it. But for three minutes it's hard to remember. He isn't even sure that it's real, let alone able to remember where it came from. 

Black plastic digs into Kokichi's fingers as he cuts his package open. 

A round Shuichi, Ultimate Detective, pillow stares back at him. In bubble wrap lies the closest thing he can get to his boyfriend. 

"Well that's not fair," Kokichi loudly says. He swallows, "You were going to propose to me. It's really not nice to let me find the ring on my own you fucking bastard-" 

The pillow gets grabbed and thrown into the hallway. It doesn't make Kokichi feel better. Not anymore than reading a twitter mutual tell people to 'please not draw porn of Saihara-kun because it's not fair that my poor friend can't fuck him irl anymore'. Even his clown gang friends will say shit like that now. 

Oh, that wasn't what she meant. 

Just what everyone else was already thinking.

Most people that join Dangan Ronpa don't have anyone. They're not dating or in love. Please respect that this particular corpse being puppeteered by an artificial intelligence was actively fucking a man.

Another box is removed from, and purple eyes glare over at the sight of his boyfriend's face painted onto whatever the fuck figurines are. Kokichi can't remember when his boyfriend's eyes are looking at him. Staring at him, flat and not nearly as beautiful as they should be. It makes his finish chewing his nail off. 

Kokichi gnaws his fingernail, tossing it around in his mouth, and looks at his merchandise. Ah, and he can't lie about that. Even if TDR tries to say that it's for mourning purposes. Friends and family get free toys. That's all that this will ever be for him. He removes the rest of his sordid items in silence. On a whim he decides to toss the box. 

Right off the bed and like a cat- purple eyes watching packing peanuts scatter. 

Nothing will ever make this alright. Shuichi isn't alive anymore at all. There's barely anything of the person that Kokichi knew in there. Living or dying won't matter for that character. Instead, the one that wants to die is Kokichi. 

Good thing that he has at least two reasons to live. One, Dangan Ronpa V3 isn't over yet. Two, the Shuichi he loves would want Kokichi to at least die happy. No matter what he tells himself, the man knows that he would only be miserable while committing suicide. So for now he lives. 

He lives and forces his hands steady, unbreathing and persisting, remembering the woman; whose husband killed himself while she was in the final trial of her season. Kokichi remembers her and remembers how Shirogane told him that they'd be like star-crossed lovers. Recalls the way she promised they wouldn't be separated, and Kokichi laughs. 

It's strange to think about how much she gushed over him. Discomforting but so overwhelming that Kokichi had ignored it. Surely a writer that creates such well written storys must be good? But that thought had been wrong. 

People do not automatically become good or wise. Not via age nor skill, how relatable their content, and certainly not with talent. 

A fourty year old with blue hair smiled at them while not telling them the the final audition is an actual kidnapping. More than that, she had the gal to recommend a therapist. To apologize for not kidnapping Kokichi too. 

Kokichi sets his first Saihara figure down on the dresser that Shuichi uses. He puts his second, hatless and intensely jabbing a finger towards anyone, on the leftmost nightstand. After an hour of waiting there's an alarm. Or rather, Kokichi stops staring at his ceiling when an alarm goes off. 

Dangan Ronpa starts in half an hour. It's dark out. Kokichi is so hungry he's sick. The box is on the floor, but no one is home in a way that's palatable. 

Getting up takes him ten minutes. 

Everything after that is a war- from grabbing cold Hawaiian pizza to turning on the TV. He's frazzled and frantic just from picking up the disgustingly well designed pillow. It's roundness and the obliging eyes are transparent. Kokichi still hugs it to his chest like the overgrown toddler he is. All while biting his cresent of fingernail into grit. 

He doesn't mind his gross habits now that there's no one else. 

But honestly, this episode should be fine. The last trial was just last episode after all. Kokichi will probably get a break this time. Yeah, he tries to tell himself as k1b0 trains itself onto the protagonist. Shuichi smiles at the camera. Time goes by like that. Everything will be-

Monokuma forces Saihara to peep on the girls using obvious mind control. 

Kokichi stares at Shirogane's bra and imagines strangling her. 

Already he can imagine exactly what the fandom is going to think. He can taste the pile up in his inboxes. Kokichi is drowning in himself, but all he does is pull his body together tightly. Into fetal position, the pillow twisting, and he spits out fragments of keratin in order to suck in oxygen. 

From his core to his extremities,

Ouma Kokichi despises Dangan Ronpa. 

The writers, for making his boyfriend cry over the death of a fucking murderer. The artists, for running them around and then making everyone look the same as in real life. The PR team, for spreading so much propaganda that Kokichi can hardly tell if he's awake or not. The characters, the Saihara in there, for mocking him just by existing. 

All of them, oh God, how Kokichi just wishes they'd just genuinely die. 

But it's the fans and their endless slobbering that he hates the most. Without them there would be no Dangan Ronpa. No soft and high-quality fabric with Shuichi’s stolen fave. Thus, the one that Kokichi loathes the most is himself. 

It had been his idea to jokingly go into the auditions and claim some school uniforms. Would have he known that people like Shirogane were in charge… 

He would have suggested something more asinine but less dangerous, like sex while skydiving. 

Kokichi thinks these things each episode he watches. Which is of course all of them. Right up until he watches the fourth trial and thinks, that's my boyfriend, while cuddling with the pillow. Its an empty thought in the same way his heart is empty. He watches Saihara slam away all hope from the Blackened with words. Different way this time though. 

Chapter Five is depressing in ways that the man can't fathom. 

Trial Six. 

Ouma Kokichi is a hypocrite. He's the scum of the earth, but it's okay because so is everyone else. Which means that Kokichi is even worse than all of them. Slimy is how it feels to hear his boyfriend's voice in those hours. To hear from that mouth that this world is fucked- that Kokichi is a special kind of scumbag. Both for watching his beloved suffer like this and only feeling bad for the one that remembers him. For the Saihara Shuichi that he thinks of as dead. 

Shirogane watches everyone with eerie blue eyes. 

Purple eyes ringed with bruises widen and lungs falter too. Fingers with nibble-nubbed nails stop scratching at a pillow. Kokichi laughs, a chuckle vomited up from his guts. He's on the screen now. Of course, yes right there, Ouma Kokichi is looking up at himself while Saihara Shuichi sees him. Looking up at the audition camera. 

Honestly, he has no idea which one this is. They're all blurred into the same now. 

"I want to join Dangan Ronpa-"

"But I don't," Kokichi lowly murmurs. 

The Kokichi that Shuichi is staring at looks to the side, uncertain, "But I don't."

"My boyfriend lately, he, ah. *******-chan has been kind of pushy. He's already a fan but now it's getting way too much. I think that he's started to lose his grip, you know? H-he was always way into Dangan Ronpa and talked about becoming the Blackened a lot but," a wavering gaze turns towards the one matching it. Kokichi slowly releases his pillow, and his voice continues to lightly echo inside of an empty apartment. 

"He doesn't really want to join Dangan Ronpa with me. I'm sure that it's just a joke… there's no way that he wants to kill me for real. O-or anyone!"

Kokichi thinks back to how Saihara's audition is a perfect pair for this. 

The him on screen blinks and looks down, wilting, "But if *******-chan disappears then I don't know what I'll do. So- so if you want to pick him then, then... Definitely, please let me join Dangan Ronpa too."

"Its fake," he murmurs as Shuichi’s eyes stares brokenly at the screen. He giggles and proceeds to make his throat tear while screaming, "It's fake! It's fake, it's FAKE, it's fake! It's fucking fake! You're fucking fake, all of this is fake- you piece of shit fucking cunts stop looking like I killed your God damn dog that's NOT real! Saihara-chan I'm right here" 

Drool oozes onto the cute eyes of Kokichi's Shuichi pillow. 

All Kokichi has left in him is the burning need to breathe. 

He grabs his phone and logs onto the official stream. It's so unlikely that anything he sends will be seen. Millions of people around the world are doing the same thing. Even in countries where shows like this are illegal too. Kokichi's numb fingers struggle to type anyway. 

I'm sorry. 

I really miss you. 

I wear the rings everyday. 

I never cared that you forgot me. 

I'm just so scared I won't remember you someday. 

I was just acting we were both acting you never hurt me! 

I called your parents each day until last week and no one knows where they are but all I can think about is how they loved me more than the people that raised me

I tried to make her stop but she kept rubbing my shoulder and touching me I just wanted to leave so I signed the waiver but they didn't even take me too and I'm so sorry

Please don't die

Please don't die

Those were lies

Please 

Please believe me

Dont go I swear I'll be better just don't die

Pslease 

Shuivhci pleaxse don't die

For a few minutes there's no sound but background music and things he'll pretend he can't hear.

"I… I won't die here."

Really?

"I really won't."

He's utterly exhausted and barely able to read. Still, he can see what Shuichi is responding to now. All of Kokichi's barely coherent messages are being spammed to the point of dominance. They cover the screen despite how Shirogane tries to obscure them. People saw him, they recognized his account, and now the whole world is ripping itself apart for him. 

People that only know him through voyeurism or the news are pushing his feelings forward. 

Kokichi isn't sure if anyone in the Trial believes him. The man isn't sure he believes himself, he's too raw and dissociative to say. He slowly types 'I love you' and watches the whole chat window come alive as strangers speaking different languages rise in a wave. All of them repeat it with only his name as a difference. Part of the man knows that any altruism here is suspect. Yet Kokichi can't help but feel overwhelmingly light, grateful.

If they're making sure that Shuichi can hear him… 

Just this once, and only once, he won't care why. 

There's no hope in this, Kokichi quickly decides as things progress. There's not even despair no matter what Shirogane tries to use. 

Only lies and the truth. 

Looking down, Kokichi listens to his boyfriend ruthlessly crush the entire world under the wait of it's own flimsy cognitive dissonance. He hears as Kiibo attacks the school and flinches when boulders fall. But that's not the ending that he'll believe in. Kokichi is going to trust Shuichi this time. The truth that belongs to him is what was promised. Shuichi won't die in there. 

He decides that with total surety. Whether it'll end up being a lie or not, this is Kokichi's truth. 

Nimble fingers type into a lethargic yet buzzing chat. 

Dangan Ronpa is pathetic. 

And so he watches as not a single soul challenges him. It's tiresome in its own way though. These are things that Kokichi has wanted to say for so long, and he's only saying them now that everyone agrees Kokichi falls onto his couch. 

I hope Shirogane is dead, he soon tweets. 

I truly and honestly hope she's a gore pancake for what she does did, a friend replies.

God I missed you, and a hundred likes appear all at once.

You fucking depressed loaf of bread. Did you know that 100k people signed a petition to get you in and then skeevy shit revealed that tdr have been forcing participants in for like. Fifty (50) years, he soon sees. 

Kokichi watches the numbers go up and types, Are you surprised? 

People are screaming about politics invading their very political death games. So. No. Now go to sleep and wake up when I find your boyfriend, you clown. 

Seconds pass as Kokichi digests the fact that months of silence haven't made at least one friend hate him. Irrationally, he considers the fact that he's going to dress up with the clown gang after all. He tells all and any fans of Dangan Ronpa to commit suicide. Then he pays to get his tweet promoted, says good night, and goes to the bed. 

Their bed again, because that's the truth. 

Kokichi hums idly and grins sweetly.

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write a fic where Bonkichi hotglues a Shuichi figurine but nooooo. It had to be this! Acceptable.


End file.
